A very thin sort of connection indeed. That was just the half-brother of an uncle by marriage.
“Mr. Darcy is a man who has let his consequence make him believe he must care for nothing but his own interest, and the grandeur of his connections,” Mr. Wickham said widely. “I dare say he is right that he need fear for nothing from any man. As for myself, though he ought to be denounced, I could never do so. Not until I can forget his father, I can never exposehim.”
“You are defaming himnow.” Elizabeth vibrated. She had not realized that she would speak. “I have seen Mr. Darcy’s behavior. I have lived in the same house as him for nearly a week. He never shows anything but kindness, honor and respect for those who are in a dependent position. He would not act with cruelty to a man that his father had particularly recommended to him.”
“Ah, I wish that were so.” Mr. Wickham sighed. “That would have been much to my benefit. But he has presented toyoua different appearance than the truth of his character.”
“Mr. Wickham,” Elizabeth’s heart pounded in her chest, and the world had a reddish haze, “you are the one who presents an appearance of goodness while not having the substance. I have seen nothing good of you, and a great deal good of Mr. Darcy.”
“Lizzy!” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed. “It is not your place to argue with Mr. Wickham. You are shaming me. Cease this nonsense.”
“I think,” Mr. Wickham sneered, “that the young miss has an infatuation for the great gentleman. Mrs. Bennet, I’d beseech you to keep a close eye upon her, she may only be your husband’s ward, but this way of speaking of Mr. Darcy, it makes me fear that she might—I cannotsayaloud what I fear, but you must fear the same. Such a thing would shame your family and hurt the situation of your daughters. I fear that I cannot speak well of Mr. Darcy’s morals. There is nothing specific I can accuse him of, that is to say, those specific things that I might accuse himof cannot be spoken of in the presence of ladies. But there are things which I know for a positive fact that he has done, beyond his mistreatment of myself, which would make me hesitate to allowany daughter of myownto be on terms of intimacy with him.”
“I believe you to be a liar,” Elizabeth said. “I will not let you speak in this way about my friend.”
“Lizzy! Cease to run on.” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed, “I have already told you once to be silent.”
At this moment Elizabeth could not feel the fear she usually had of Mrs. Bennet. It was almost as though even that, being afraid of her, was a role that she had taken on, and which could be abandoned if she had a more important matter to pursue. But looking at Wickham, and seeing how he looked at her, she was very aware of the gun in her reticule, and how many seconds it would take to load that gun.
Mrs. Bennet stood and gestured for Elizabeth to follow her.
She was supposed to be terrified. She tried to make herself feel terrified, but it did not work. But then she remembered the fists falling. The shout, “I should kill the bastard child.” It had happened in a plushily appointed drawing room.
At last Elizabeth felt terrified of Mrs. Bennet again.
As soon as they stepped into the empty hallway, Mrs. Bennet dragged her next to the door that went into her sister’s rooms and grabbed her nose pinching it between her fingers like she would when Elizabeth was a young child.
Elizabeth let her. The memory reminded her of what could happen if she angered her guardian.
Mrs. Bennet shook Elizabeth’s head back and forth. “Lizzy, what are you about?”
When Elizabeth could not say anything through the tightness in her throat, Mrs. Bennet said, “You shall never speak against me again. Gratitude alone must make you know better than that. That kindly Mr. Wickham simply told us an entertaining story, and you shamed me for the sake of a man who nobody likes.”
Can you not see the obvious inconsistencies in what he said? He is making a fool of you.
Elizabethnowhad no bravery to say anything. She touched the silver locket lying on her chest. That made her feel better, as though she had her real mother near her.
Mrs. Bennet then grabbed Elizabeth’s nose once more and shook her.
Elizabeth let her.
“I begin to worry that youareinfatuated with that awful Mr. Darcy. Do you mean to shame me before everyone with him? I promise that Mr. Bennet will never help you in any way again if you do so. No matter how fond he is of you, he would not, and I would not let him.”
“Of course I would not.” Such fantasieshadcrossed her mind. But he was to be married. And he would never ask her. If Mr. Darcy did make such a dishonorable offer, she would owe Mr. Wickham a sincere apology.
“I have never been so astonished by you,” Mrs. Bennet said. “Lizzy, never, ever, ever contradict me. Do you hear? Swear that you will never contradict me. And apologize to me for shaming me.”
When Elizabeth did not immediately reply, Mrs. Bennet grabbed her face to make her look up into her eyes. “Now.”
“Forgive me for embarrassing you, madam. And I’ll not contradict you again.”
Mrs. Bennet stared into Elizabeth’s eyes for a long time before she let go of her face.
Chapter Eight
Darcy had spent much of the evening after his unexpected encounter with Wickham pacing back and forth in front of the mantlepiece. He glared at the happily roaring fire. Several times Bingley called for him to settle down and play cards.
Darcy ignored this request.
